


Childhood days

by Lumosrox



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Implied Dwalin/Ori, M/M, Magic, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Thorin, Protective Thorin, Rating May Change, So much goes on in this, Thorin Feels, Thorin Is an Idiot, Young Bilbo, basically bilbo gets turned into a child, bilbo gets transformated, bilbos a child, more characters will be added, there is alot of angst in certain chapters, thorin looks after bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7814560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumosrox/pseuds/Lumosrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in years, Bilbo couldn’t wait until it finally snowed. Bilbo normally hated the cold. It never snowed much in the Shire, hardly ever it was that rare. But the thought of the white flakes falling softly down, seemed exciting to witness, and Bilbo just couldn’t wait. Balin informed Bilbo of this some mornings ago, and since then Bilbo couldn’t contain his excitement. Apparently in snowed heavy in Erebor during the winter months. Now that the dragon was gone, for over 60years the snow will finally be able to fall again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, this is my first fan fiction, I've been working on this for months so some of the future chapters have already been written. The story's plot is something that's been on my mind ever since watching all three hobbit films, so I hope you'll love the idea!:)  
> Once you get to the second chapter, will things start to make sense. please leave comments below I would love to know what you think of the first chapter!:)) This hasn't been edited by anyone else apart from me, so i hope you'll enjoy it. Happy reading.

It was just coming along a year since the great battle for the mountain corrupted. Looking back, Bilbo greatly thanks Yavanna that no one was not too seriously injured. Everyone from the company escaped the harsh battle with minor injuries, all that were easily cured and treated. Fili and Kili both had gained a few scars from their opponents. Fili had one running down his left shoulder, while Kili had a small scar on his right cheek from an arrow that lucky missed its target. The rest of the company all had similar injuries, some more noticeable than others, but Thorin had it the worst. When the battle had ended, Thorin had been found bleeding out on the Raven Hill, and lucky Oin and the many Elves that helped, managed to save him from certain death. Now though, Thorin was all healed with a long knotted white scar running diagonally down his chest, in vain of what was surely supposed to kill him.

The year dragged out as Erebor was being relived in. Many Dwarfs from the Blue Mountains, including Thorin’s sister, came travelling back to the Mountain to help with the refurbishment that the Kingdom would need. Dale was rebuilt, giving new homes for those who lost theirs in the fire storm, while Lake Town was built into a docking station. In the last few months of the year, Erebor was finally starting to look like the very tales Thorin and Balin once told.  
The summer months had soon past in a blur, as winter turned in covering the Mountain and Dale in thick cold chills. The leaves had turned their colour, leaving their once bright green skins, to deep warm oranges and reds. It was quite beautiful, seeing Erebor looking like an autumn forest. It was the first time Bilbo had the pleasure in watching the seasons change around Erebor. For the first time in years, Bilbo couldn’t wait until it finally snowed. Bilbo normally hated the cold. It never snowed much in the Shire, hardly ever it was that rare. But the thought of the white flakes falling softly down, seemed exciting to witness, and Bilbo just couldn’t wait. Balin informed Bilbo of this some mornings ago, and since then Bilbo couldn’t contain his excitement. Apparently in snowed heavy in Erebor during the winter months. Now that the dragon was gone, for over 60years the snow will finally be able to fall again. 

Bilbo was very happy in Erebor. He had been living with the Dwarfs for nearly a year now, and still he didn’t miss the Shire all that much. He had sent word to his many cousins, informing them that he was very much alive, but wished to stay in Erebor until he was satisfied. The mountain felt more like a home to Bilbo than his Hobbit Hole ever would. Thinking about returning back to the quietness and the simple things of life, felt different. Bilbo could no longer picture himself living his days out alone in the Shire. The Company had begun to feel like his family. A proper family. And so he had informed his cousins that his Hobbit Hole will be given to Mr Gamgee to look after, until Bilbo’s return. 

It happens to be just the morning that Bilbo had unfortunately over slept. He was fast asleep, the cold weather making him much drowsier then normal, when the second bell rang for Breakfast. It was loud and echoed throughout the Mountain, startling Bilbo from his sleep. He sat up straight in bed, curls sticking out in all ways imaginable, as he tried to figured out what number bell just rang. 

“The second or the third bell? No it can’t be the third, must have been the second. Ohh why do they all sound the same?” 

Bilbo groaned and rolled out of bed, dressing quickly and taming his bed curls. He was already late for breakfast. Hopefully there will still be something left for him. He put on a clean shirt, brown breeches, a dark green waist coat, and the same colour jacket to match the waist coat. Then began his way down to the dining hall.  
He knew about this time, everyone in the company would be already seated and most likely halfway through their breakfast. He just hopes someone had saved him something. As the guards who were stationed at the door to the dining room came into view, Bilbo speeded up and came to a quick stop at their feet. 

“Morning.”

Bilbo greeted and smiled up at the guards. The two guards gave amused huffs and opened up the two large pine doors for Bilbo. The Hobbit walked in and was met with the Company, all seated and quite surprisingly, still eating. The Company were downing down pints of ale, while laughing and talking loudly to one another from across the table. Bilbo began walking to were his normal seat was for meals and notice everyone was in their usual seats for breakfast. 

Bombur, sat on the opposite end of the long table nearer to the doors, who had Bifur on his left and Nori on his right. Next to Nori was his oldest brother Dori, who was pouring himself a cup of tea. Then next to him was Ori and Dwalin, who were very engrossed in each other than anything else. The two dwarfs were just recently courting, and couldn’t seem to keep their hands to themselves when they were near each other. Then next to Dwalin, were Fili and Kili, who are laughing alongside Bofur at some tale he was most certainly sharing. Bofur was sitting across from the two princes, on the far end on the table, with Bilbo’s empty seat awaiting him. On Fili and Kili’s side of the table, sits their mother Dis, who is sat next to Kili on the end of the table. On Bofur’s right sits Balin who is having a heated discussion with Oin. Next to Oin there sits Gloin. 

Bilbo was making his way down to his seat next to Bofur, when he noticed Thorin at the head of the table. He stopped a bit, taking in Thorin’s brooding state. Something was wrong. The King seemed agitated and distant, like something was bothering him. He was sat in a daze, looking down at his plate, as everyone around him was talking and laughing. Bilbo looked worriedly at Thorin as he finally made his way down to his seat. The King was wearing a causal blue tunic with a leather over jacket to keep the chill off, and breeches. There was no crown present during meals, Thorin only wore it during council meetings. He did look handsome. If Bilbo wasn’t so worried about what was on the dwarf’s mind, he might have appreciated the view. 

Since the battle Bilbo had become overly concerned about the dwarf. It also seemed that since that day, Thorin too had also gained some protectiveness towards Bilbo, especially when he found out that Bilbo had gained a head wound. He did as much as he could to yell at Bilbo about his recklessness while lying on his sick bed. Bilbo remembers that day very lividly. He too wanted to shout and scream at Thorin. Tell him how close he was to leaving him. That he was the one who found him bleeding to death. That he was the one that carried Thorin’s blood over his hands, in his attempt to stop the blood. But he didn’t. He couldn’t bare to admit his feelings towards the dwarf. Not there in the tent, had Bilbo found his courage to admit that he loved Thorin. Even when the dwarf was close to death. Something was holding him back, each time Bilbo was close to telling him. But Bilbo didn’t know what. 

“Good Morning, ya sleep well Bilbo?” 

Bilbo is shaken from his morbid thoughts from Bofur. He notices that he is still standing next to his chair. How long was he daydreaming for? He looks across to Bofur and smiles pulling his chair out to sit down while clearing his throat.

“Good Morning to you too Bofur, and very well thank you.”

Bilbo replies smiling slightly as the still fresh thoughts are present in his mind. Bofur doesn’t seem overly bothered about Bilbo’s odd behaviour, and continues on the conversation. 

“Ay laddie, thought ya near get up!” 

“so did I.” 

Bilbo tries his best to gain back some of his cheerfulness from moments ago, and manages a bigger smile than he did before. He then turns to Thorin, who is sitting next to Bilbo at the head of the table. The dwarf King seems to not have noticed Bilbo’s arrival, as he still sits in the same position as he did when Bilbo walked in. Bilbo knew it was pointless to even try to engage in any type of mutual conversation with Thorin when he had something on his mind. He never told the real truth only the half-truth, to what was actually bothering him. 

“Thorin, are you alright?”

The concern in Bilbo’s voice is clear, but so soft and low that only the few around them may hear. The dwarf seems to be shaken out of his daze from Bilbo’s voice, and looks up slightly, with a frown across his forehead. 

“I’m fine.”

His tone if rough as it is more of a mumble than a sentence, but Bilbo’s ears catch on to the deep tones. Bilbo leans in a bit more, so not to catch the attention from the others.

“Are you sure? It- “

“I said I’m fine!” 

It wasn’t quite a shout, more like a loud curse under his breath. With the room as loud as it was, Thorin’s deep voice went unnoticed. Bilbo looked at Thorin startled from his reaction. Something was definitely wrong if Thorin snapped so easily from Bilbo’s concern. Seeing this on Bilbo’s face, Thorin sighs and tries again more softly.

“I’m fine Bilbo. Please leave it.”

Thorin then looked back down to his plate, back to his thoughts and Bilbo just tightly nods to himself. Thorin will talk when he’s ready. Bilbo takes one more worried glance at Thorin and then turns his attention to the food on the table. It seems this morning that Bombur had decided to serve a cold breakfast of fresh hams and cheeses, with freshly baked breads and sweet and savoury delights. All the food was littered across the table on plates. Bilbo’s belly suddenly grumbles at the sight of the piles of food. He realises that he’s starving. He begins to dig in, when he hears Bofur whisper close to him.

“Better eat up laddie, or there m’ght be nothing left.” 

Bilbo just smiles again at Bofur, and continues to plate up his long overdue breakfast. He is halfway through stacking his fresh meal up, when Bilbo hears snickering smirks from across the table. He looks up to see Fili and Kili smirking at each other with knowing looks of pure trouble, while glancing at Thorin. It seems the princes have noticed their uncles sour mood. 

“Ay Irak ’Adad, me and Kili saw- “

“Thranduil in Dale yesterday.”

Fili said the first half of the sentence with ease, trying to pull it off as causal conversation, but Bilbo knew better. If he wasn’t right these two were up to something. Whatever it was, it involved Thorin. Bilbo curiously glances at Kili who failed to hide the two brother’s mischief in the second part of the sentence, as Fili continues on with the tale. 

“I can’t quite remember what he was buying. What was it? Kili do you remember?” 

“Yes Nadad I do. He wanted some more archers for his gates is what I heard.”

“And so what did we do little brother?”

“We decided that it would be very nice- “

“Oh Mahal! Can we stop taking about that useless excuse of an Elf! It’s not even mid-day.”

Fili and Kili fall silent upon Thorin’s input, and instead smirk at each other. Bilbo looks towards Thorin. The Dwarf was still looking down, like he wished to be anywhere else than in this room. Bilbo was about to try and smooth Thorin, but Dis got in first. 

“Oh Nadad, please Thranduil is an ally. You must stop this revulsion you hold against him.” 

Upon hearing Dis, Thorin looks up from his plate, to glare hard at his sister. His irritation was clear to see. It was like a warning. A warning to Dis to drop the subject. Thorin was in no mood to socialise, and seemed very consistent to avoid the current subject. Although the warning goes amiss, as Dis sits unmoved by Thorin’s glare. She raises an eyebrow towards him, that Bilbo knows frustrates Thorin. He’s seen it happen many times in the past. Thorin breaks the glare and looks down at his untouched food, managing a mumble through teeth. 

“He’s better off dead, then alive.” 

Bilbo is sat right opposite Dis, and therefore catches her eye roll. She doesn’t seem too annoyed, but rather glad to leave Thorin to his thoughts. She catches Bilbo’s eye. 

“So, Bilbo how’s your garden getting along? Thorin informs me that it is coming long great.” 

Dis’s tone is light and elegant, but Bilbo can practically hear the emphasized pronouncement on her words. It takes him a moment to take in what she said. Thorin informs me? Why would Thorin care about my gardening? The deep questioning puzzles Bilbo, and before he can control himself, a deep crimson blush flares up on his cheeks. The fact that Thorin, may or may not, have been entertaining his evening conversations aimed all at Bilbo was heart-warming. 

“Umm…d-did he?” 

Bilbo clears his throat to try and rid his blushing, while slowly adverting his gaze to Thorin’s face. He notices the King’s jawline tensed as he stares at a spot on the wooden table, and a slight blush that also matches Bilbo’s. Now that was very rare. Thorin hardly blushed. Bilbo had managed it a few times in the past. It was quite interesting how modest and shy Thorin really was around Bilbo. Even so much a talking to him, sometimes got the King in a mess. Bilbo never knew why. It always occurred to him as shyness of some sorts. But that was nearly a year ago since that fortunate situation happen. Bilbo had been living in Erebor for nearly a year now. Bilbo clears his throat again to rid his thoughts and looks across at Dis. 

“Well it’s coming along great, I’m afraid the winter won’t do it any good. But that will soon past. I’m currently running out of my favourite tomato seeds.”

“That’s such a shame. I’ve heard that Dale has been getting a lot of gardening goods this month. It seems they’re sorting out their collections before winter finally hits us.” 

“Yes it seems that’s true.”

“You’ll have to go down to Dale’s market this noon before the wind picks up.”

“Yes of course, but you see, I was actually thinking a long- “

“Ya could tag along with me and Ori, we’re going down to Dale on business of purchase. We could use the company.” 

Bofur cuts Bilbo’s rambling off and smiles warmly at Bilbo. He returns Bofur’s warm smile. He might as well, Ori and Bofur are one of Bilbo’s closest friends within the Company, and he doesn’t see a reason why he can’t accompany them down to Dale.

“Oh, I can’t see why not. I guess I could use- “ 

“You’re not going.”

Bilbo jumps slightly at the gruffness of Thorin’s tone, but it doesn’t startle him. He is by now, accustomed to Thorin’s protective behaviour. Instead Bilbo frowns at Thorin who has looked up to glare at Bilbo. The same warning glare Dis received seconds ago. What did Thorin mean he couldn’t go? What was his problem? Bilbo could do whatever he wanted, and has been doing so for the last year. He notices that Dis and Bofur have become intensely silent next to him. The rest of the company’s voices and cheer is muffled from Bilbo’s growing irritation. Thorin’s eyes are an accusingly deep black against his normally blue orbs, while his jaw is tensed in a way that Bilbo has seen many times before. To maintain control over his anger. Ignoring this observation Bilbo holds his head high and arches an eyebrow, imitating Thorin’s well known eyebrow raises he often sends his nephews. He is not having Thorin ordering him around.

“And, why not?” 

“Because I am the King!”

Thorin all but straightens up in his chair, as the rest of the Company around them fall silent. The wooden chair fails to hold the strength, in which Thorin forced upon it, and falls heavily on the stone floor. Its echo loud. Bilbo can see Thorin’s livid, for what reason he’s not sure. It could be Bilbo’s questioning, but that wasn’t the first time Bilbo has questioned Thorin’s actions. He’s done it many times in the past. But how dare he! How dare Thorin use that title on Bilbo. They were friends. Bilbo wasn’t a subject in one of Thorin’s council meetings. He was a loyal friend. 

“You may be King under the Mountain, but you’re no King of me!”

Bilbo all but flares out, his temper getting the better of him. He holds his stare with Thorin’s accusingly imitating one. The silence stretches dangerously around the Company. He can literally see that Thorin is in no state in mind of arguing, but Bilbo hangs along. By now Thorin wasn’t the only one who is irritated. 

“Do not insult me, Master Baggins.”

Thorin’s voice had gone threateningly low. With the added formal attachment of Bilbo’s parentage name, he knows he’s dug too deep. But Bilbo continues to hold his stare.

“I was not insulting you Thorin Oakensheild, but who’s to say what I do and when?” 

Bilbo arches an eyebrow questioningly at Thorin’s stoned expression, but before Thorin has a chance to retaught back, Bofur cuts through the intense silence the two of them have brought on.

“Don’t ya worry Thorin-” 

Bofur carefully treads to reassure Thorin, while slinging an arm around Bilbo. Bilbo doesn’t even attempt to advert his glare from Thorin. 

“-I’ll keep ma eye on him.” 

As Bilbo holds his stare with Thorin, he notices that the Dwarf’s shoulders have relaxed slightly, as if weighing the situation ahead. But Bilbo’s temper with Thorin is too far gone. He’ll not let go so easily. Their glaring in cut, as Thorin adverts his eyes to Bofur while keeping his voice threateningly low.

“Very well. I want you back by noon.” 

Thorin raises an eyebrow at Bofur, in a way to state his order with no complaint, as he again draws back to Bilbo with a hard glare.

“No later, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo holds that glare, until Bofur clears his throat, patting Bilbo on the shoulder, and hears him chime in awkwardly. 

“Alrig’t then, we better get going before it gets busy.”


	2. The trip to Dale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the second chapter guys, I hope once you read it, that my idea as to where I am taking this story, will become more clear. Hope you enjoy!:)

Breakfast was a useless excuse to even show up to, when all along the whole point in the meal was to actually eat something. Bilbo frowned deeply at the accusing ice bun in his hand. It was all Thorin’s fault. That irritable dwarf. Accusing Bilbo of insulting him. Who does he think he is? Telling Bilbo what not to do. Bilbo huffed and looked down the path which they were currently on. At least he got something out of Thorin, his trip to Dale for a start. He looked further out to the lightly lit town of Dale. The morning fog was just beginning to fade, leaving a light cloud of mist in its place. The air was still cold and bitter, giving the morning trip a refreshing feel. Bilbo looked down at his feet. The light brown curls that grew there, moved ever so slightly in the breeze that the upcoming winter brought along. Bilbo wiggled his toes. The evenly warm path was dusted with light gravel and soil, with patches of grass growing along down the sides. 

Bilbo had a feeling that his bad mood wouldn’t break very soon. His was too annoyed from what had happened at breakfast and Thorin’s over protectiveness. Even the thought of the dwarf was enough to sour his attitude even more than it already was. He frowns against the morning mist, as the soft light that was breaking through its clouds hit his eyes. The vision of Dale came closer into sight. The solitude town stood proudly against the early hours of the morning, creating new shadows to the new day ahead. Bilbo spotted Dale’s first gate through the clouded mist, and although the gate itself was huge, at this very moment it looked nothing more than a blurred object on the horizon.  
Bilbo could hear Bofur and Ori talking amongst themselves, as they strolled along next to Bilbo. He didn’t get past anything than the light tones of their voices. He couldn’t be bothered to eardrop. He had more pressing matters to tend to, like what to do when he finally got back to Erebor after the trip to Dale. Thorin definitely will not be speaking to Bilbo anytime soon. But neither was Bilbo. If Thorin wanted to act like a child and ignore Bilbo, until the Hobbit apologised, then he could wait all he wanted. Bilbo wasn’t going to apologise, not this time. 

He sighed heavily. He didn’t really know what to do. He hated it when he and Thorin had disagreements like this. Thorin was always the one that took forever to come around. Even when Bilbo did apologise, which he was definitely not doing today. But why did Thorin have to be so difficult? Even when Bilbo asked him this morning about his concern, Thorin still choose to isolate Bilbo from his thoughts. 

“Ay Bilbo, ya going to eat that?”

Bilbo looked up in a daze to Bofur. He nearly forgot that they were with him. The two dwarfs were both looking at Bilbo like they were concerned for him. Why are they looking at me like that? Bilbo just shook his head and asked.

“Eat what?”

“Well that in ya hand. Why do ya think I picked it up for? for ya to just hold it all morning. Ya haven’t eaten a thing. “

Ohh the ice bun, Bilbo almost forgot about that too. It was only then that he again realised that he was starving. He managed a smile to Bofur and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. He chewed harshly at the doughy substance of the bun. The sweet sticky icing making Bilbo all the hungrier. He didn’t have anything else to eat, so he’ll just have to go without until their all back in Erebor. The walk down from there didn’t take long. They all soon arrived at the southern gates of Dale, where the morning market was in an uproar of selling. The market had hectic but mirthful surroundings, with many Men, Dwarfs and even a couple of Elves from Mirkwood. Bilbo was the smallest there. 

“Bilbo, Ori and me are just going to go down ere to the parchments. We’ll meet ya at the gardening stall, so just wait there when ya done.” 

“Oh-h yeah, yeah that’s fine. Could you maybe grab me some parchments? I’ve ran out a few days ago, and haven’t restock since.” 

“Yeah sure Bilbo. I’ll pick the best ones out for you, I’m better than Bofur is with this material.” 

Ori answered Bilbo’s question with a wide smile. Bilbo and Ori were close friends, ever since they both became aware that they shared a common interest in books and writing. He smiles his thanks, and makes his way to the gardening stall. The market was busy. There was hardly enough space for Bilbo to walk, without getting pushed or shoved. It only frustrated Bilbo more. He hated trying to squeeze through Men and the like. It always made him feel useless. 

He was half-way to the stall when he noticed something on the floor. It was a piece of string lying among the busy feet and stones. Dust was thrown over it, from the constant movement of people walking past. It was different in some way, that stopped Bilbo. It made him look hard at it. It was red, with bits of golden thread weaved into it, as dark green specks were entwined with the red. It stood out to Bilbo. For some reason this piece of string didn’t belong here, not in Dale anyway. Something about it was foreign, like it belonged to a land from overseas. Bilbo was about to pick it up for closer inspection, when he was suddenly shoved into hard. With barely any time to stop himself, he fell flat to the ground, with arms outstretched. His body collided roughly with the soil ground. Dust and stones flung around him, as his palms just manged to stop his face hitting the hard floor. What on either just happen? It was the first time ever Bilbo was shoved into in such a way. Whoever it was, was tall and had to be very strong to force Bilbo to fall so. His heart was hammering tightly against his chest. He looked away from the floor and notice the string still lying there, inches away from his face. He quickly picks it up and made to stand, dusting off the dirt and stones that clung to his clothes and palms. He looked around to find who it was. Surely they would apologise? That was quite a fall. But there was no one there that seemed like they just shoved Bilbo to his death. Bilbo Sighed and pocketed the string in his breast pocket from his waist coat, and looked around for the stall again. 

He spotted the stall to the left side of the market, and began his way again. This time a little more cautiously. He pushed through some more people, walked past a few buildings when he notices a solitary man standing next to one of the many walls in Dale. Bilbo stopped again. The figure was tall and covered his whole appearance in a hooded cloak. The cloak was dark brown, with matching garments underneath. The figure was standing casually against the stone wall. The hood hung loosely over the man’s face hiding any sort of identification from peering eyes, acting as a thick shadowed mask. The only visible human feature Bilbo could see, was a sharp nose sicking out narrowly though the man’s shadow mask, his hood grazes the very tip of his snout. Whoever the man was, looked very mysterious to Bilbo. But everyone else payed him to no mind. It seemed his shadowed appearance created the invisibility of his existence. Bilbo looked down at the figures hands and notices that he's holding something. Bilbo stood a little taller to make out what it could be, but could hardly see anything from where he was standing. Sighing he look up to the hooded face. That dark appearance gave Bilbo the chills. Something about this person wasn’t right. His dark and mysterious presence told Bilbo that whoever the person was, shouldn’t be here. Should be miles away from where Bilbo was. Suddenly the stranger straighten up, pocketing the object from his hands safely away in his cloak, tilting his head in Bilbo’s direction. Bilbo freezes. He swears that the hooded figure was looking right at him. The chill from earlier ran up Bilbo’s spine, as the figure continues to look at him from under his hood. How can that be? Bilbo didn’t even know the person, did he? No, he definitely had nothing to do with whoever he was. Without wasting anymore time, Bilbo quickly walked away from the figure, relieved that the chills began to stop. 

Bilbo finally made his way to the stall. He sighed heavily once he got there, so pleased to be away from that strange man. What a weird day this was turning out to be. First the string and the fall, then the mysterious figure. What next? The stall was rather overloaded from gardening purchases that Bilbo could require for his garden back in Erebor. There were handfuls or more of different varieties of seeds, from flowers and vegetables to trees and fruits. There was of course, tools that were require in the garden. Bilbo was currently stocked up on those, so he bypassed them and started looking for his tomato seeds. If Dale had run out and no longer had any, then he’ll have to ask the Shire or Gandalf for some. No one never knew when that pestering wizard would make an appearance. He catches the last packet of tomato seeds next to a small spade on the table in the corner of his eye, and goes to collect them before someone else does. From doing so, Bilbo notices that his eye sight seems off. Everything around him has gone blurry. The clear light colours of Dale have gone thick and unrecognizable, like heavy paint on a canvas. Bilbo shakes his head to try and see better. It does nothing to help his sight, but instead forms a massive headache to start. Bilbo groans. What on earth was happening? Unexpectedly Bilbo begins to feel off balanced, and tightens his grip on the stall table’s edge for guidance. His whole body was beginning to ache. His muscles felt heavy and tingly. He could feel his bones scrapping together in a way that put him more off edge. Bilbo wanted to be sick. Oh where’s Ori and Bofur? They should be here by now. Bilbo swallows to rid the bile that has begun to sit in his throat and tightens his hold of the stall table. They’ll be here soon. Bilbo tells himself as he closes his eyes and waits for Ori and Bofur to arrive. It doesn’t take long. A few minutes’ pass until he hears Bofur’s voice.

“Ello Bilbo, we got ya parchments… are ya alright?” 

Bilbo doesn’t need to open his eyes to know Bofur’s concerned. He can practically hear it through his voice. Steadying his head in his left hand, Bilbo opens his eyes slightly only to shut them tightly again. The once soft light from the sun, now was harsh against Bilbo’s eyes.

“I don’t feel so good Bofur.” 

Upon hearing Bilbo’s statement, Bofur takes a quick glance up and down Bilbo’s frame. Something was amiss with Bilbo. He was practically sweating through his garments. Bilbo’s usually flushed and healthy looking skin, now sits against his frame pale and clammy, with his golden curls sticking out against his sweaty forehead. 

“You don’t look it either lad.” 

Bofur lays a steadying hand against Bilbo’s shoulder to help support him. They should both get Bilbo away from the market, and to somewhere a bit quieter. Bofur remembers that there should be a stairway not far from where they’re currently standing. He looks up over the stall to look for the urgently needed stairs.

“Come on, there should be a stairway ya can rest on, till ya come around.”

He looks back to Bilbo and notices that the Hobbit has begun to lean all his weight into his hand. He looks up to Ori for some kind of reassurance but notices he’s just as worried as him. He sighs, and begins to guide Bilbo and Ori to the stairs he hopes is still there. On their way there, they begin to attract more attention than they did when they arrived this morning. Bilbo’s form has gotten worse, and is now in a dangerously unhealthy way to the second eye. His eyes have created a purple-black form of skin underneath, making him seem partly lifeless and exhausted. His once flushed skin has turned to a veiny pale appearance. His golden curls have lost their healthy colour, and now sit clammy and sticky to Bilbo’s forehead. To be honest, he looks dreadful. The hectic and very curious Men of Dale’s market begin to spread out, as their trek for the stairs have thankfully led them to the quiet edges of the market. 

The din of the market has evened out as Bofur just makes out the stairway he’s been looking for, and quickly speeds up their hast, as much as he can. The stairs begin to come to better view as the three of them come to a stop next to the first step. It’s only a few stairs high, but it is enough to place Bilbo while the two Dwarfs figure out what to do. It is sectioned off from the rest of the curious glances of Men. The two Dwarfs watch as Bilbo, very cautiously sits down on the first step, and fragilely plonks himself down on the stoned step. By this time Bilbo’s vision was completely gone, as all that is left is white dots. He doesn’t even know where Ori and Bofur have led him, and quite frankly he doesn’t care. All he knows is he’s sitting on something hard and cold. His head is still spinning and holding it up appears to be making it worst. Bilbo drops his head into his hands.  
Seeing Bilbo like this isn’t the most pleasant. Bofur knows that if they want to get Bilbo back to Erebor; back to Thorin then they’ll have to get Bilbo looking at least, a fraction alive. They have to do something. Bilbo’s frame was beginning to appear worst by the second. He pulls Ori away and out of eardrop, to some bushes not far from where Bilbo was sitting. They turn both their backs to Bilbo.

“What are we going to do!? We can’t take him back to Thorin looking like this!” 

Ori all but hisses out in his attempt to keep his voice down, and his nerves under control. 

“I know, I know. Look maybe he’ll come around. It could be the lack of food this morning.” 

He looks to Ori for reassurance on his statement, but all he gets is a raised eyebrow from the other Dwarf.

“I don’t think so Bofur, I’ve never seen him like this.” 

Ori’s tone has begun to even out as a touch of concern is editable in his voice. Bofur can notice the frown marks on the Dwarf’s forehead and the worry that it visible in his eyes. He sighs. What were they going to do? Maybe if they did send Bilbo back, Thorin would be a little understanding. At least they would have sent Bilbo back in time before he worsens out.

“Alright, we’ll just have to take him back to Thorin, at least he’ll send for Oin.” 

Ori takes a moment to consider this. They both do. It was nothing worse than being on the receiving end of Thorin’s wrath, something nobody wants to witness. But they were stuck. Bilbo was increasingly getting worse as the minute’s past and soon they didn’t know what they’ll be faced with. The look in Ori’s eyes soften slightly, as the fear of Thorin’s reaction begins to fade, and his concern for the Hobbit kicks in. He nods to Bofur in agreement, but the uncertainty of the situation and conclusion of Thorin at the end, was still heavy. The two Dwarfs turn around to face Bilbo. 

“Come on then Bilbo, we’re takin- “

The rest of his sentence in cut short in his throat. The view of where Bilbo was currently sitting was nothing more than a pile of clothes. The Hobbits clothes it appears. What on earth? Who takes their clothes off in broad daylight? Upon looking closer from where the two dwarfs stood, they notice that Bilbo is nowhere to be seen. The fear and dread of losing the Hobbit all but hits both Dwarfs.

“Bilbo?” 

The fear that is currently flowing through Bofur makes it impossible for him to shout for Bilbo. He swallows hard, and comes aware of Ori’s panicked silence next to him. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the bundle of clothing. They both take a few steps towards the cloths and the stairs. Thorin was going to kill them at this rate.

“Bilbo!?”

This time, Bofur’s tone is a little stronger, and comes out more confident in voicing the Hobbit’s name, than the first. They stop half-way from the stairs. It was plainly obvious who the clothes belonged to, but Ori decided to state the observable.

“Their Bilbo’s clothes!” 

Ori again hisses out, as his nerves become too much for the young Dwarf. He pulls hard on Bofur’s sleeve. Bofur turns to Ori, where he can see the dreaded fear on the poor Dwarf’s face. 

“I know, but where’s Bilbo?” 

They both cautiously begin to advert their gaze to Bilbo’s clothes. It was all there, Bilbo’s waistcoat, lined shirt, breeches, jacket everything was there except for the Hobbit himself. They couldn’t go back all with just his clothes, that was madness. From staring at Bilbo’s clothes, Bofur begins to notice that in fact, the pile wasn’t abandoned. There seemed to be something sitting in the middle. He frowns as both he and Ori move closer to the stairs and the clothes. They both gasp in surprize at what was sitting in front of them.

“Is that?” 

Ori couldn’t help but ask that question. His thoughts were now too muffled beyond reality to even think. He looks over to Bofur for a clarification on the answer, and is give a baffled Dwarf frozen in place at the sight before them. A huddled little Halfling was staring back at them. Thorin was indeed going to kill them.

“Thorin’s not going to like this.”


	3. Thorin’s Surprize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, angst and more angst!;) Alright guys this is were the angst starts, its not as heavy as the next chapter will be but thought you should know. This is the last chapter that I've already got written down, so the updates will now be more apart and probably updated weekly? I'm busy for the rest of the week, so the next chapter may be up sometime next week. The chapters will also now be getting a lot longer than the first two, enjoy:)
> 
> Khuzdul:  
> Dum Takt = Awaiting an explanation  
> Birashagammi = Excuse me/ Sorry (literally - I Regret)  
> Birasazriri Jazar ni Targzu = Get a knot in your beard (insult)

“I want Thorin.” 

The pleading for the Dwarf King continued on as Ori and Bofur stood outside the awaiting doors to the Council Hall. The small Hobbitling’s tone was just above a whisper, hardly noticeable if it wasn’t for Bofur carrying Bilbo on his hip. 

“I know laddie, just wait ere with Ori a tick, Okay?” 

He was mainly speaking to Bilbo’s messy bed of curls than the Hobbit, as Bilbo had taken great interest in a button on Bofur’s jacket. A distraction Bilbo created since his transformation this morning in Dale. He was slightly upset ever since his change. He hardly spoke a word all the way back to Erebor. The only word spoken by the Hobbit was Thorin’s name. It was very endearing to witness. The whole image of Bilbo was quite endearing. The two Dwarfs had to rebuy some clothes for Bilbo to wear back, and manged to find an overhead dark green cloak, with matching breeches. Bilbo’s old clothes were given to a servant on the way in, with firm instructions to return them to Bilbo’s chamber. Both of the new garments were a little too big for Bilbo, even though they were brought from a market selling children’s clothes. When changing him into the clothes, Bofur had to roll the breeches up to Bilbo’s mid-thigh. As for the cloak, it hung loosely over Bilbo’s frame, coming to rest against his knees, with the hood sitting back low on his head. 

Bofur pulls the hood back up, so that it hangs lowly over Bilbo’s face, hiding him from peering eyes, as he transfers Bilbo to Ori’s arms. The poor Dwarf looked dreadfully frighten on both their behalf’s. It was only going to be minutes before Bofur told Thorin of Bilbo’s state. The King was only sitting unknowingly of the situation behind the wooden doors they were currently stood by. He hears Bilbo sniffle as Ori adjusts his hold to support Bilbo’s weight on his hip, and couldn’t help but feel guilty for what has happened. It was his idea all along for Bilbo to accompany them to Dale. This wouldn’t have happened if Bilbo stayed put like Thorin told him too.

“Just wait ere, I’ll inform Thorin on what’s happen. Whatever goes on in there don’t come in.”

Bofur firmly tells Ori. He didn’t know what would happen if Thorin saw Bilbo like this. It might even make the situation they were in worse. He gets a stiff nod and an anxious expression from the younger Dwarf, as he tightens his grip around Bilbo. Bofur turns towards the two awaiting guards. They seem slightly baffled by the two Dwarfs appearances, and are trying to peer at Bilbo from under his hood.

“Permission to see to the King.”

Bofur’s slightly shocked at how confident his tone had sounded. There’s nothing comforting about the whole idea of informing Thorin about Bilbo. The guards look away from Bilbo to Bofur, before opening the two heavy wooden doors of the Council hall. The doors creak as the two guards push open the way to the entrance, and Bofur slowly begins to make his way in. He stops at the threshold, and mildly hears the doors creaking shut again behind him, and sees Thorin at the head of the empty table with Dwalin at his left. The Dwarf King seems to be going, silently through some council parchments, while Dwalin hovers by, and seems unaware of Bofur’s arrival. He must be busy too unnoticed someone walking in. Thorin was dressed in the same clothes he was wearing during Breakfast this morning, and too still seemed agitated. Bofur’s throat begins to feel tighter than it previously was. The reality of what has happened hits him. He really has to do this. He swallows hard, taking a deep calming breath before he begins to walk a few steps closer to Thorin. He comes to a stop about halfway down the narrow stone table. It’s better to give Thorin his space. 

“Ma King?” 

Thorin adverts his concentration to the head of the room, and notices Bofur standing awkwardly next to the table. It seems their trip to Dale was finished. Good he needed words with his- no their Hobbit. He huffs and adjusts his eyes to the inked parchments, as he scans the Dwarfen symbols of Khuzhul on the white sheet. 

“Bofur. What can do for you? You’re back early.” 

He couldn’t help but grit the words out. His tone was unfriendly, showing his anger and frustration from this morning. A least Bofur kept to his word, they were back way before Noon. Thorin sees out of the corner of his eye, Bofur ringing his hands around each other. He does seem nervous. But Thorin mentally shrugs it off.

“As well as it could. Thorin there’s something I must seek your attention too. It’s… it’s about Bilbo.”

Upon hearing the Hobbits name, Thorin sharply looks up to glare across the table at Bofur. His anger only slightly flaring up again.

“What about Bilbo.” 

It’s more of a statement than a question, as Thorin’s tone has gone low and is forced through his clenched teeth. The parchments are long forgotten. He uses the white sheets for something to clench his fists into, or else he’d be making dents in his palms. Bofur does a quick glance at Dwalin, and noticed he seems anxious on his behalf. Not very comforting for Bofur, but there’s not a lot he can do. He can’t just turn around and walk out. 

“Well ya see he…well he-“

“For Mahal’s sake!-“ 

Thorin’s temper has all but lost control, as the Dwarf stands up and slams his palms flat on the table's surface. He can’t believe that Bilbo may have gotten injured, and if he has Bofur better pray to Mahal that it isn’t serious.

“If Bilbo is injured in any way Bofur, you’ll be paying the cost by experiencing a deal more pain than he is!”

He growls this part of his threat out, and darkens his glare. He can physically feel his anger increasing as he continues to glare threateningly at Bofur. The silence around the room was once comforting, but now it’s painful to stand in, for both Dwarfs. He can see that Bofur is on edge to continue his explanation on what has happen, as now Bofur has cast his eyes to the few fallen parchments on the stoned floor. Noticing this did nothing to dampen Thorin’s wrath, as the image of his Bilbo crying out in pain hits him. His patience has slipped. 

“You better tell me now, Bofur.” 

His voice is so low that the deep grumbles echo slightly in the silent room, giving Bofur the hint that Thorin once again in containing his anger. He can just picture Thorin’s glare that is most probably being directed at him now. The room is dreadfully silent, and nothing moves except Thorin’s low voice and harsh breathing. Thorin doesn’t even know what’s happened yet, and Bofur has half the mind in making something up. He looks up to Dwalin, seeking some sort of reassurance, but finds none of the sort. It seems he’s in this alone. He swallows down the nerves and rests his gaze on Thorin once again. He has to tell him the truth. It wouldn’t be fair to Thorin otherwise. He dissevered to know the truth. he sighs. The quicker he says it the sooner he can get out. He hopes. 

“Bilbo has- “

“Thorin!” 

Bofur is cut short at the noise of slapping feet, as Thorin’s name was exclaimed out by a familiar voice. The two intruding noises surround the intense and silent room, is louder than they should be. Bofur mentally knows who’s just ran in. He quickly turns to see the Hobbitling running down the table towards Thorin. Ori was close by trying to catch Bilbo with outstretched arms, but stopped when Bilbo came near Bofur. 

Thorin’s glare turns from rage to shock. The two Dwarfs are interrupted by, well Thorin thinks it’s a dwarfing but he isn’t remotely certain it is. He adverts his gaze to the running youngling a notices that he seems overly happy to see him, which is odd because Thorin hasn’t got the faintest idea who the youngling is. He notices that Bofur stops the child running too close, by placing his arm in front of him, and shaking his head slightly down towards the youngling. Now that the child has stop running, Thorin can make out some of his appearances. He seems to be wearing a hooded cloak, and from looking at it seems to be made from Men. The sleeves hang low over his arms, hiding the child’s hands. The youngling only came up to Bofur’s waist. The hood on the child’s cloak has moved back a fraction from his running, to sit at the centre on the child’s head, making it easier for Thorin to see his face. The boy has soft features to his face. Creamy tones of skin with ruddy cheeks and a nose. A round button nose that is fairly familiar to Thorin’s eyes, the boy’s eyes are wide and huge, making his face seem smaller and rounder than it actually is. They are a shade of intense blue, with a hint a green sparks around the orbs which too, Thorin has swears he’s seen before. Thorin frowns down across the table at the small child, and notices a lock of curls have fallen to sit neatly on the youngling’s forehead. They’re a golden colour, very similar to Bilbo’s. Actually upon staring at the boy, he looks the perfect image of a young Bilbo Baggins, and that makes Thorin stare even more.  
I couldn’t be. Bilbo was definitely in adulthood the last time Thorin saw him. Thorin didn’t really know what was wrong with Bilbo, Bofur hadn’t actually inform him yet. Could this be what Bofur was trying to tell Thorin? That Bilbo had somehow transferred into a Hobbitling. No it was bazar! Unheard of and most definitely impossible. But the more Thorin stared, the more recognisable characteristics from Bilbo appeared on the boy’s features. Shock ad irritation hit Thorin as he came to a conclusion. He kept his eyes on the small Hobbitling as his rage come flooding back to full force. This time it was being aimed at Bofur, completely at the Dwarf. 

“Dum takt.” 

Thorin lowly growls out to Bofur, as he adverts his gaze to the Dwarf. He notices that Bofur has come to the conclusion that he has guessed who the child is. Bofur nervously gulps keeping his eyes locked down on Bilbo, who is frowning up at him. 

“We…we don’t really know ourselves. Look we parted when we arrive-“

“YOU WHAT!?” 

Thorin was absolutely livid. He trusted Bofur’s word that he’ll keep watch on Bilbo, but all to go against his promise and part ways with him! Thorin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He leaves his place at the head of the table to walk around to the table’s edge, all the while keeping eye contact with Bofur’s downcast eyes. He catches Bilbo jump from his raised voice, and casts he’s eyes down to see Bilbo half hide himself behind Bofur’s right leg, while peeping at Thorin with wide, startled eyes. 

“Well h-he went to his stall, and we went to the parchments and then-“ 

“You’re telling me that you LEFT BILBO ALONE!” 

Thorin’s tone of voice rises as he nears Bofur and Bilbo, as he threateningly walks up to Bofur to stop inches away from the Dwarf. The room has all together stopped, as Thorin’s outrage hangs high above everyone within the room. It echo’s around to every corner, and Bofur’s not surprized if the whole of Erebor has heard them. He can sense that he’s treading of soft ground, Thorin is literally livid. 

Thorin’s rage is coming close to exploding, as he has to take in all his control to keep it at bay, especially when Bilbo’s in the room. It seems Bilbo as a child was easily scared. Thorin’s deep and loud voice was not helping the situation, or Bilbo. But his control is taken fail, as he again hears a small whimper more like a gasp of fright than the first time, and looks down to Bilbo. There the Hobbitling has completely hidden himself away from Thorin, and has taken refuge behind Bofur’s leg. Thorin now can only see the lining of Bilbo’s hood. Thorin clenches his fists by his sides, and locks his jaw down; it’s only moments before he flares.

“It was only for a few moments Thorin.” 

Bofur is quick to reassure Thorin, but knows it’s in vain when the King starts to growl and the muscles in his jaw twitch.

“AND LOOK WHAT’S THAT HAS COURSED!” 

By now Thorin has lost it, completely. He all but bellows out his statement in pure temper and points to the awaiting Hobbitling behind Bofur’s leg. Bilbo has now tightened his hold on Bofur’s calf, and buries his face in the curve of the Dwarf’s leg. He is frightened of him, Thorin concludes.

“Thorin please-“

“Do not plead me! BIRASAZRIRI JAZAR NI TARGZU!”

Thorin all but loses control on his speech, and partly realises the insult he has directed at Bofur, but his irritation and rage is too high to dismiss. He takes deep breaths, as he sees little Bilbo’s form behind Bofur’s leg shuffle. How can this of happen? To the only important creature in all of Middle Earth that Thorin cares the most about. Bilbo is all but lost to him now. He’ll never be able to show his affection and adoration towards the Hobbit, not now not ever. Bilbo might as well be dead, to Thorin and that pains him achingly, like he himself has all but fallen from reality. His muscle in his jaw twitch again as his anger is fuelled up again, and this time it’s because of his emotional state, and not his patience. Bofur can see Thorin is hurt. Without thought Bofur goes to apologise, even if it is in vain, he must try.

“Birashagammi.”

Bofur mutters quietly, as so not to startle Thorin and slowly lifts his gaze to the Dwarf King. That way his apology can be truthfully seen. But the King all but lowers his gaze down to the stone floor, the first time ever; Bofur has seen him lower himself in an argument. He can just about notice that Thorin’s eyes have changed their tone of look, and recognises tears building up around the Dwarf’s eyes. Greif, Thorin was in Greif and to make it worst he felt shameful for displaying it so fully for Bofur to see. But he couldn’t help himself, the fact of losing Bilbo was too much of a burden to carry hidden inside, and Bofur’s apology was just enough to let the emotions flow. The apology felt more like a statement of fact, that Bilbo was all but gone, and Thorin couldn’t stand it. The room felt too small, for the first time ever since Thorin had reclaimed his home. He needed to get out before he completely lost it. But as the tears fell, his anger only grew, and before he knew it he strikes at the first thing he could find. The few parchments that were left on the table. 

The cream and inked papers went flying everywhere. They all went scattering towards Bofur, as Thorin all but growled in a shout at his released fury, and stormed out of the hall. He didn’t look back once. The great wooden doors slammed against the walls of the pure force Thorin took out against them. Little Bilbo all but jumped as the smooth wood connected with the harsh, cold stone of the walls. The outrage that Thorin released stayed hanging around the room, as the only three Dwarfs in the room stood shocked at the display Thorin gave. Dwalin looked worriedly towards Ori and then quickly followed the Kings leave. 

Ori and Bofur begin to calm down from their nervous rate, now that Thorin was absolutely livid with them. No point in trying to change that, Thorin was too stubborn for it. But Bofur was brought back to the present as he begins to hear quiet sniffling, and recognises it to be Bilbo. He looks down and sees Bilbo is still partly buried against Bofur’s trouser leg, his hood has again fallen back over his face, acting like a cover of comfort. He sighs, and bends down to Bilbo’s level, and lays a comforting hand upon the Hobbitling’s shoulder. 

“Bilbo?”

He lifts the overly large hood back a fraction, so it again sits in the centre of Bilbo’s head. He notices Bilbo’s distort face. The Hobbit is looking down, but Bofur is close enough to see. The red blemishes around his cheeks and eyes are a definite give away at the state Bilbo is in; as tears roll down his plump, smooth cheeks. The sniffling is much noticeable from perching down at Bilbo’s height. He moves his hand from Bilbo’s shoulder to place both on top of the Hobbit’s. Bilbo has begun to fiddle with his fingers as an emotional distraction. As Bofur's ruff hands lay on top of Bilbo sleeve covered ones, the Hobbitling looks up. His eyes wide, glossy and wet, as mucus sits around his overly red nose. The Dwarf had only one option left, if Thorin wouldn’t help then there was only one left who would. He hopes.

“Shall we go and see Dis?”

He tries to lighten the mood that Bilbo is currently in. Bofur tries to attempt some sort of a reasonable smile towards Bilbo, but the Hobbitling’s bottom lip starts to tremble.

“I-I wanted t-to see T-Thorin; doesn’t h-he want to s-see me?” 

At this Bilbo’s voice trembles and cracks as he goes through his sentence with little shakes as he tries to holdback his tears. It’s heart breaking to witness his distress second hand. Bilbo sniffles loudly as the mucus around his nose thickens and his bottom lip all but pushes up against his top lip. Bofur sighs, and goes to reassure Bilbo’s as much as he can. They can’t have him crying. 

“He does Bilbo; it’s just…well he’s busy.” 

“B-But why was he angry?”

It seems clear that Bilbo appears to be oblivious to the situation, and the argument that involved him moments ago. The anger Thorin had displayed had actually frighten Bilbo. He starts to worry his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at Bofur with wide eyes. The Dwarf again hears Bilbo sniff loudly again, as more tears silently fall down the Hobbitling’s sore, wet cheeks. 

“Come on, we can’t stay ‘ere all day, eh?” 

Bofur squeezes Bilbo’s hands, and moves the long sleeves back to lace his fingers with Bilbo’s small ones. They’re tiny little fingers, which barely fit in Bofur’s ruff palms, as he has to hold them between his thumbs and pointing fingers. He tries to attempt one of his toothy grins, but it only comes out awkwardly. He knows Bilbo wouldn’t reply, the poor Hobbit was too upset. He sighs. There’s only one thing left to do, and that was to inform Dis. Hopefully it would also give Bilbo a distraction from thinking about Thorin. The Dwarf moves to stand, picking Bilbo up and placing him on his hip once again. He wraps his arms underneath Bilbo for support, as Bilbo wraps his own arms around the Dwarf’s neck, leaning his curly bed of curls on Bofur’s chest. His hood has now fallen back home to shield the Hobbitling’s face, hiding his identity as Bofur walks back towards the doors to where Ori was still silently standing.

“We better go to Dis, she’ll know what to do.”

The young Dwarf now seems less anxious, and appears more shocked than anything else. He stands with his hands in front of him, fiddling with a stray string of cotton from his scarf. He nods at Bofur. Bofur smiles warmly at the young Dwarf, and turns to walk out of the Council Room, with Ori trailing behind. The walks through Erebor’s wide and narrow halls are uneasy and silent. Even poor Bilbo has fallen silent from his earlier sniffles. All through the halls, there are Dwarfen guards stationed every mile down from each other, all in exacted harmony of statues of metal and armour. The only echoes that are created are the footfalls of harden leather against cold stone, as the two Dwarfs make a stop outside of the Princess’s chamber. The double door is a burgundy washed wood, with trails of gold running through the pine wood, making the door seem ancient, against the pale mountain’s walls. Bofur adjusts his hold on Bilbo, and Knocks on the door, twice. 

“Lady Dis?” 

“You can enter.”

It’s a loud and firm voice, but to any friend it isn’t hard to hear to gentleness and kindness that runs through its tone. The two Dwarfs walk in and stop between the arm chair and the end of one of the sofas. The chamber is enormous, as any royal chamber is. It imitates a size and style of a bungalow, with four different compartments. The first compartment in the largest as it is the sitting room, and the most used part of the chamber to guests. It has four washed walls that are highlighted and tinted with pale dye, that helps reflect the natural light coming in through the windows. The windows are on the far back wall. On the far right wall, in the centre, is a stoned fireplace decorated with emerald pebbles craved into the harden mineral. There next to the hearth is a furred rug, giving the whole room a warming and comforting atmosphere. Around the rug there are two sofas, both are sat diagonal of each other, creating an ‘L’ shape as two deep pine wood side tables are perched between them. Next to the sofa, furthest away from the hearth, is a single arm chair which matches the two sofa’s décor. Next to the fire is a book shelve, that runs all the way down the right wall to stretch across the far back wall, and ends next to the simple sized desk. In front of the desk is one of the windows, that enlightens the room with the Noon sun, as its rays are sprinkled across the stoned floor. On the far left wall is a diner table, with two head seats, and five side seats. On the right wall nearest the hearth, is an archway that leads to the small kitchen, and on the far left wall near the dinner table is another pine door that leads to the bedroom, and the semi-attached bathroom. 

From where the two Dwarfs are stood, Dis sits perched on the sofa nearest the back wall, sipping silently on her warm tea. The Drarrowmam is a perfect image of Thorin, as you can see the family mark of raven black hair, which both siblings have. Dis has changed her hairs style from this morning, as is now platted together behind her back with two braids hanging elegantly around her slim face. Her beard is neatly trimmed, that gives her whole feature an open and warming appearance. She also has blue eyes that are fairly similar to Thorin’s, although they have a more greyish tint making them less bright and intense as Thorin’s own eyes have. She looks up to the two Dwarfs across from her, and notices the bundle in Bofur’s arms. It appears to be a child who seems to be quite distressed, as the youngling is hanging onto Bofur quite tightly. She smiles gracefully at the two dwarfs and places her tea cup down onto one of the wooden side tables.

“Who's this? Is he yours Bofur?” 

She has known all the Company for some time now and therefore is acceptable to call them by their first name, as she sees them all as part of her family for their great deed they all accomplished. She moves her gaze away from the child, and smiles brightly at Bofur. The miner only looks down to Bilbo and shakes he’s head softly. 

“No ma Lady, Dis it’s a Hobbitling.” 

He looks back up to confirm this. Now that the Dwarf has looked directly at her, Dis can see the gloomy expressions both Dwarf’s plaster across their faces. It’s not a frighten or distressed look the two Dwarfs share, it’s more guilt. 

“A Hobbitling? Is it Minister Bilbo’s then? A distance family member perhaps?” 

Upon hearing the Hobbit’s name, the guilt spreads across Bofur’s face, settling with a frown across the Dwarfs forehead. He clears his throat rather awkwardly. 

“Not quite. Ya see we’ve informed Thorin but, as ya could imagine it didn’t go to well.” 

He pauses as he lets this bit of information sink in. He takes a shuddering breath and tightens his hold on Bilbo, as he starts again.

“We had a kick up in Dale, and well…it’s Bilbo.”

To express the last part of his sentence he hoists Bilbo up further on his hip, and removes the overly large hood from Bilbo’s head. As if noticing the attention he is getting Bilbo peeks across to Dis, while remaining huddled against Bofur’s chest. His eyes are now dry, but appear puffy and swollen from all the tears. His cheeks are still tear-stained and sore, but have a rosier look now that the Hobbitling has stopped crying. His button nose is also sore with all the sniffing the poor Hobbit has done, but still occupies clear, runny mucus around the nostrils. His eye lashes have changed to a deeper black, as the evidence of all the crying from earlier are still editable on the fine hairs. They appear too make the Hobbit’s oval eyes glossy and brighter. From taking in the appearance of the Hobbitling, that apparently is Bilbo, Dis abruptly stands up in shock. The child is small, with fine hairs upon his feet and toes, his eyes are huge as they peek across towards her, as his bottom lip seems to be captive between the youngling’s teeth. She has never seen a Hobbitling. The only Hobbit she’s had the privilege upon meeting is Bilbo, but apparently this is the same Hobbit. If it is true, she can understand why Bofur and Ori had come to seek her help. Thorin would be nothing but rage. 

“Is it truly?” 

She asks as she makes her way across the fur rug, to stand in front of the two Dwarfs. She moves her gaze from Bilbo, to Bofur. Upon staring wide-eyed at the miner, she only gets a tight nod. She gasps in surprize and horror as she again looks down at Bilbo. 

“How could something like this happen?”

“We don’t really know ourselves ma Lady. We hoped Thorin could ‘ave helped, but ya know how he feels about Bilbo. He didn’t take it too kindly.” 

From hearing about Thorin’s reaction towards the situation, Dis couldn’t help but shake her head slightly at her Brothers protectiveness towards Bilbo. It seemed he really did care an awful lot about the Hobbit, even if he doesn’t care to admit to it.

“I think kindly is an understatement.” 

She lightly smiles at Bofur to help reassure the Dwarf, and peers down to Bilbo. The Hobbitling was still wrapped tightly to Bofur’s chest.

“Well, I think we should keep Bilbo here with me, away from curious eyes. I’ll send word to Thorin. I think this matter should be dealt with sensibly.”

Upon hearing Thorin’s name, Bilbo abruptly perks up and straightens up in Bofur’s hold, while smiling widely with gleeful eyes directed at Dis.

“Thorin?” 

The Hobbits tone is clear and cheerful, instead of the crackling and stuttering from earlier in the Council Room. His eyes shine across the excitement of the chance to see Thorin. His whole face seems to come to life, as the ruddiness of Bilbo’s cheeks seems to brighten with the eagerness to see the Dwarf King. Dis smiles lightly at the display of affection Bilbo seems to behold towards her brother. Even in his current state. 

“Yes Bilbo, Thorin will be here later.”  
Bilbo’s smile widens as it stretches from one ruddy cheek to the other, with white gleaming teeth, and crystal blue eyes.

“Will he be happy?”

“Of course.” 

From hearing this Bilbo wiggles out of Bofur’s hold to stand next to the Dwarf’s leg. It seems he’s now got a bit more courage seeming Thorin may be making an appearance. 

“He’s quite adorable, is he not?” 

Dis lightly asks smiling, and reaches over to ruffle Bilbo’s curly locks in an affectionate way. In return Bilbo hunches his shoulders while smiling up at the Dwrarrowmam. 

“He is Dis, but I’m not sure that’s the problem.” 

Hearing Bofur’s serious tone, Dis looks up at him curiously and waits for him to continue.

“Ya see, if we don’t know ‘ow Bilbo got like this, ‘ow can we help him?” 

“I fear the same Bofur-“

She averts her gaze to both Dwarfs, looking between them both, with raised eyebrows.

“- You sure you saw nothing unusual down in Dale?” 

Dis’s staid expression helps the two Dwarfs to finally relax slightly, as she has taken control over the situation. As she looks between them both, the two Dwarfs shake their heads. Ori’s attempt seems likely his head was about to fall off, from the recklessness he displayed.

“I’m sure ma Lady. Me and Ori where on the other side of the market, and when we returned to Bilbo’s side, he didn’t look too good.”

“He looked dreadful!” 

Ori loudly and enthusiastically chimes in next to Bofur’s right. Dis smiles and turns to Bofur. 

“I see, so the culprit who did this must have targeted Bilbo then.”

From hearing this, the two Dwarfs drop their gaze to the stone floor in guilt. It seems it was their doing after all. If only they stayed put at Bilbo’s side. However, Dis hurriedly sees the true guilt the Dwarfs plasters across their faces, and goes in to reassure them.

“It is not your faults. You were not to know. You shouldn’t blame yourselves, it will not help the situation.”

“Thorin doesn’t think so.”

It was more of an inside comment, as Bofur muttered it out so that the Lady Dis would not hear. But is seems his careful ministrations failed, as Dis clearly catches on.

“Thorin cannot see reason. He is caught between grief of what has happened to Bilbo.I’ll talk to him, I assure you.” 

The two Dwarfs look up from their guilty stares on the stone floor, to tightly smile at Dis for her help. Bofur knew it would take some time for Thorin to come around, but if there was one person who could make the stubborn King Dwarf see reason, it was Dis. Bofur moves his gaze to Bilbo, who has now taken interest in the silk patterns on Dis’s dress, to inspect the Dwarfen runes and patterns up close. His little stubby fingers look highlighted against the deep blue dress that Dis wore, making them appear even more paler than they were. The lengthy and baggy sleeves which drowned Bilbo’s arms and palms, as all that was visible was the very tips of his fingers and his neatly shorten nails. He chuckles mentally at the endearing image in front of him, and looks up to Dis who seems oblivious to what Bilbo is doing. Bofur slightly inspects that she had registered him minutes ago before he did.

“Will he be alright with ya? He’s still little upset from earlier.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ve had my fair share from Fili and Kili.”

That was true. Bofur can clearly imagine what the two Dwarfen Princes were like in their youth. Running around and making a hell of a time causing mischief, and disruption. Even at their age now, they still manage to cause some type of trouble around the mountain. Bofur leads him and Ori out, to leave Bilbo in the good hands of Dis. As the wooden pine door shuts lightly against its hinges, Dis turns to Bilbo. The Hobbitling was still fascinated by the silken embroidery on her dress. she bends down to his level. 

"Bilbo, you’re going to stay here with me for a bit, is that alright?”

Dis lightly asks. Bilbo looks up from her dress and nods his head instead of staying anything. 

“Lovely, what would you like to do while we wait for Thorin?” 

At this level Dis can clearly see the shyness Bilbo has developed at a young age. A shy blush spreads across his now tear-free cheeks, while his bottom lip is captive between his teeth again. Bilbo shrugs silently. Dis has had her fair share with children, if Fili and Kili were anything at Bilbo’s age. However, believe it or not, Kili was an extremely shy child in his younger days that Fili helped his younger brother to grow out of as the years went by. So naturally Dis knew fairly well how to deal with the shyness of children, and smiled warmly down to Bilbo. She lightly taps Bilbo’s somewhat still sore nose in a playful manner. This gets a little giggle out of the Hobbitling, as his whole face brightens up. It seems a quieter more relaxed option is the best thing to pass the time, until Dis invites Thorin round for a little chat. 

“Very well then, a story perhaps?”

Hearing that a story was in the option, Bilbo’s glistening eyes widen a fraction more in the eagerness and excitement of being read too. Although he is still silent, he nods his head in a dramatic way. Dis straightens up and takes Bilbo’s tiny hands in hers, and leads him to the comfy sofa across the room. The little Hobbit all but straight out climbs up the sofa, to sit quite stiffly in the centre, and waits patiently for Dis to collect the book. His little hands are weaved into each other in the centre of his lap, in a polite manner Dis hasn’t seen in a long time from her boys. Smiling at the image, Dis goes towards her book case, which lines the right and back wall, to pick up the one book she knows Bilbo will love. After all it was both her son’s favourite when they were around Bilbo’s age. She scans the shelves for the childhood classic of Dwarfen tales, and finds it on the very top shelve in the corner. It’s an ancient book, that anyone can tell. It’s once harden leather spin is now a collection of weathered down creased fragments, with hardly any of the harden material left. All the spin is made up of is torn leather and the creamy white sheets of paper peeking through. Its skin is in somewhat a better condition as the burgundy shade of leather in still noticeable. However, in some places like the corners, the leather has more of a deep black tone rather than its once healthy red. The tile has too faded over the years. Its once golden runes are now dulled down to a bland yellow shine, which Dis only smiles fondly at as she takes it back towards Bilbo. It all proves the life time of good nurtured and well spent evenings, in front of the fire with her growing sons. 

She sits down in her usual space she had perched in before Bofur and Ori came in, while noticing Bilbo’s still tensed and shy appearance. He’ll come around once the story gets going, Dis informs herself. She opens the harden, timeworn cover to reveal the first inked, creamy page of the tale. The ancient cover crinkles against the new presser, as Dis opens it wide enough for Bilbo to see. He won’t be able to read the Dwarfen runes that runs across the pages, but Dis knows that Bilbo will enjoy the illustrations. She can translate the runes into Western as she reads for Bilbo to understand. She knows this story off by heart, so it will be easy. She smiles down across to Bilbo and begins to read the tale’s title on the first page. 

“The Terrifying Dragon and the ancient Sparrow…”


	4. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so this is the fourth chapter and I'm so glad to finally have it all edited and completed. This chapter is a lot longer than the others as it is 12 pages long, but its one of my favorites so far. I'm so happy for everyone who is supporting me in this story and are enjoying it as much as I am writting it! It means a lot:) I will start planning the next chapter out in a couple of days, and hopefully be uploaded in a few weeks. enjoy the angst! 
> 
> Khuzdul:
> 
> Namad = Sister  
> Nadad = Brother  
> Ma shubutmi = I don't understand  
> Kasamhili = Please

Thorin’s pacing was the only thing that was keeping him emotionally stable. Since storming out of the Council hall and retreating to his chamber, Thorin’s mind had been through grief and pain. His whole body ached from it. All he kept thinking about was Bilbo. He couldn’t budge the Halfling out of his thoughts, no matter how painful they were. The very moment Bilbo had run in on them was flashing back at Thorin, like some kind of warning. A warning Thorin couldn’t begin to appreciate. Bilbo’s little form calling his name so softly as his feet carried him towards Thorin. He had never seen Bilbo run at him like he did then. It was something Thorin was sure he’ll never forget. The tears had gradually reduced by the time he made it to his chamber. They felt real against Thorin’s face, the only thing he was certain of that made any sense to him. It had now gone pass mid-day. The sun setting lowly against the miserable dust sky, creating flecks of light to hover around the corners of the room. The light hovered on the stone floor, like the floating seeds from a wish flower as they gently travelled towards the sky. Quietly swaying as they let the wind carry them off, to somewhere far away.

“Ya know, huffing about it en’t going to make it any better.”

Dwalin’s thick tone cuts harshly though Thorin’s state of mind. He stopped. His severe pacing halting in front of the fire, turning to glare across the dimly lit room towards Dwalin. Thorin didn’t want to talk, he just wanted peace and solitude. Why couldn’t Dwalin just let him grieve in peace? He was deeply hurt in ways Thorin had never experience before in years. Not since his Grandfather’s death. He felt lost and empty, as if his very soul had disappeared from his body, leaving behind a heavy aching form of endless life. At the glare from Thorin, Dwalin holds up his hands reassuringly and continues on.

“I’m just saying.”

Thorin could barely see his friend standing in the room with him. The shadows that have appeared to settle across the room, had grew from the last time Thorin looked up. The light of the day had fallen lower in the sky. Its once bright yellow glow has now fallen to a dull murky light, making the huge room shadowed. Winter was defiantly on its way. The fire’s ambers were useless in the dim room, doing little in their dying state to warm the room through the nearing evening.

“And what do you suppose I do then? Seeming you’re the expert Dwalin.”

“Maybe you should see reason on Bofur’s and Ori’s- “

“IT IS THEIR FAULTS!”

Thorin couldn’t help his outburst. He couldn’t contain his emotions any longer, especially his anger. It was too much weight upon his sorrow to carry any more through the nearing evening by himself. Why did he always fine emotions hard to deal with? They always seemed irrelevant. Always awaking when you are weakest and then draining you till there if nothing left. Right now, Thorin couldn’t handle the agony he was experiencing. He felt like he was drowning. Drowning in an endless river that never reaches the safety of the ground below. He wished he could feel that safety. The hard secure sandy floor. Maybe he would be able to breath without the pain in his chest, if he could reach that sandy bed below.

“Look Thorin, you can’t blame them for something they didn’t do, they weren’t- “

“I cannot blame them?! I see perfectly well why I should, it was their doing after all!”

“I know they weren’t meant to leave Bilbo, but- “

“AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT THEY DID!”

The intense quietness that hangs deeply around the room from Thorin’s outburst, is heavy. Both Dwarfs stare at each other from across the dark space that separates them. The growing shadows know feel intense and unwelcome in the room. Dwalin for the first time since the night has grown, wishes for the fires light and warmth. As much as he could see through the thick shadows, he notices that Thorin’s resistance is slowly fading, that he soon will begin to feel the drain his own emotions will have on him. The harsh lines on Thorin’s face begin to soften, and the intense stare seems to disappear leaving a glassy expression in Thorin’s eyes, as if he was lost in thought, far away.

The burning pain in his chest surges through his drained and empty body, the water lapping over his head, as he falls deeper into the endless river. The visions Thorin once had since he entered his chamber have now disappeared, and a new vision came before his eyes. The last vision he had on top of Raven Hill before he lost consciousness. Bilbo leaning over him. Clinging to him, as heavy tears ran down his face constantly. Whispering to him, begging him and pleading him to hold on, to not leave him. _No. No, Thorin Stay with me. The eagles, the eagles are here, Thorin_. The memory only intensifies the heart-break and agony to claw away at him. He took deep breaths. Thorin couldn’t lose the only control he had left. He couldn’t grieve again, not in front of Dwalin. As much as a loyal friend Dwalin was, Thorin was still King. He sighed and turned away towards the fire, with his back facing Dwalin. This way, Thorin could more easily hide the small tears that fell from the memory. He clenched his fists hard as he began to speak again, but this time Thorin’s voice was soft, making it so edible the pain he was in.

“If -If they didn’t leave Bilbo alone, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Can’t you see, it’s because they left him, that this has happen. It’s because of them that Bilbo is gone…taken from me.”

Dwalin was at a loss of what to say. From where he was stood, Thorin’s figure was solitude by the little light the fire gave off, spreading around Thorin’s feet and then fading in the many shadows that litter the floor. It was like Thorin was melting into the darkness around him. Becoming a part of it. His frame was tense, as he continued to stand in front of the fire. It was the only source of light in the claustrophobia shadows, that broke though towards Dwalin. It was the only way he could make out Thorin’s form. Suddenly there was a loud knock on the wooden door, breaking though the silence that had started to grow. Dwalin could see Thorin clench his fists more as he lifted his head to shout at the intruder.

“Leave me!”

The voice on the other side of the door was muffled by the thick pine of the doorway. It was still received clearly, in a way that Dwalin managed to notice the stuttering and youthful tone that the messenger spoke in.

“M-My King, I have been sent by the Lady Dis on an urgent matter, that concerns you my Lord. She wishes to seek your attention straight away.”

As the messenger finished, it grew quite again in the room. The shadowed room was only disturbed by the light shuffling on the other side of the door. Thorin guessed that the boy would not be sent away. Not until Thorin had replied whether or not he’ll accept Dis’s request to see him. He waved a demanding hand towards the door at Dwalin. Thorin didn’t have enough patience this evening. He briefly heard the click of the door, and the muffled voices of Dwalin and the messenger boy. Then the door clicked shut again. It was quiet for a few seconds. The shadows clawing at the stone floor as Thorin watched the dying fire. It’s fading flames flickered around each other, their dull yellows and oranges disappearing into one dark shade, glowing above the flakes of the ashes and wood. It looked peaceful to Thorin. Watching as the flames danced and twirled as their life started to fade, was enchanting compared to Thorin’s agony. It seemed to help him relax. Something so simple and dangerous, was so warming and beautiful.

“I think it’s best you leave now, it seems important.”

“What did he say?”

Thorin’s voice was rough and low, showing what little patience he had.

“Not much, only that Dis will not wait long, and will fetch ya herself if ya don’t show up.”

The smirk on Dwalin’s face was noticeable in his voice, but Thorin didn’t find Dis’s order enlightening. It only frustrated him more. He shut his eyes tight to prevent anymore tears from falling, and slowly turned towards his friend.

“Stay here. I can make my own way down, there’s no need for you to come.”

“Very well. I’ll wait here for you, when you come back Thorin.”

“No. No there’s no need. Have some free time, I’d rather be on my own when I come back.”

Without waiting for Dwalin’s response, Thorin strode across the room to the wooden door, and started his way hurriedly down to his sister’s chamber. He didn’t want to talk with Dis. He’d rather she asked for someone else’s advice for once. He just hopes whatever it is better not have something to do with Mirkwood’s trading. He didn’t have the patience or mood to talk about Elves and Thranduil. The corridor was well-lit compared to Thorin’s dark chamber. His eyes stung in protest as the soft light was harsh against his eyes. Being in near complete darkness for hours had strained his eyes. He turned his face down towards the stoned floor, were the light was less strong. The little time Thorin had to himself before arriving a Dis’s door was welcomed. It gave him time to calm and collect himself before confronting Dis. Otherwise she’d be able to look right through him. He didn’t think he’d be able to control his tears if he had to explain to her what has happened. Once there, Thorin stood outside the door buying more time to himself before entering. He stood stiffly next to the pine door, taking deep breaths and flexing his fingers. The drowning sensation was still present, but the nagging pain was dull fading gently around Thorin’s body. Nodding to himself he opens the door quickly, hearing the door creek against its hinges.

“What matter seeks my attention that you had- “

Thorin stops mid-sentence, and freezes by the threshold. There in front of him was Bilbo. Before he could prevent his tears, they started to build behind his eyes again from earlier, at the sight of Bilbo. His Bilbo. The Hobbit was sitting on the sofa next to Dis, looking at Thorin with those huge eyes, that only hours ago were full of tears. Tears that Thorin made fall. His throat tightens as the tears begin to feel heavy behind his eyes. He locks his hold on the door handle to help control himself.

“Thorin there you are. I was beginning to worry what was taking you so long.”

Dis’s light tone breaks through Thorin’s frozen state, as he looks up to see her stand up while Bilbo stays seated. He glances back to Bilbo and notices that his little form seems tensed, like he’s not quite sure what to do. His legs are crossed together, and his hood it completely off his head. The first time ever Thorin has seen Bilbo’s new form so clearly. The Halfling’s curls are wild, as the fire from Dis’s hearth shines golden light across the top of Bilbo’s head, creating shades of dark brown and blonde curls. The fire also lightens Bilbo’s face, as it gives the creamy skin a warm and soft appearance, making his huge blue eyes shine in the flicking light of the flames.

“Namad.”

It was all Thorin was capable of saying. All words were lost to him at this moment. He looks back to Dis, blinking constantly to rid the tears his could still feel.

“Nadad, please could you close the door. It’s not as warm as it once was. Winter is on its way.”

As Dis says this, she turns to Bilbo who is still staring at Thorin from his seat on the sofa. His little hands were wringing together, as he pulled at the green thread from his baggy sleeves. She gently takes hold of Bilbo’s small hands, preventing him from ruining the sleeves anymore. Then she gently guides Bilbo off the sofa, encouraging him to stand up with her. He does. Quickly looking at her briefly before returning his gaze onto Thorin, who has now fully closed the door. Bilbo takes hold of Dis’s left hand tightly once he’s on the floor. His little fingers hold onto the tips of her fingers so firmly that Dis takes a moment to look down at him. Bilbo has placed himself quite close to Dis’s side. He’s peering across the room at Thorin, who seems to be trying very hard not to look at Bilbo’s form. She squeezes Bilbo’s fingers. He looked up at her. His huge eyes showed so much of his emotions, that Dis could just read them off of him. From what she could tell, Bilbo was anxious to see Thorin but also excited. He was confused as to how to behave in front of him. Bilbo looked away from her again, biting his bottom lip as he looked over to Thorin. Dis smiled slightly and looked back to Thorin too. His form appeared tensed, and from the fire’s light Dis could tell Thorin looked off. He was not angry like she expected him to be, he was strangely calm. She didn’t know if that was how Thorin wanted her to see him, but she expected deep down Thorin was a mess.

“Bilbo and I have been waiting patiently to see you, Nadad. As you probably know there are some things we need to discuss.”

She firmly looks at Thorin from across the room, but all she gets is a firm nod. Thorin didn’t think he had enough self-control to voice his answer. Since seeing Bilbo again after so many hours broke him. All those hours alone in his room, containing the only control he had left, was now useless. The pain and distress was all coming back full force, hitting Thorin in the face. Once again the crashing waves submerged Thorin, covering him and lapping at his only source of air. He didn’t think he would be able to hold on much longer. Not like this. He could tell from the way Dis was looking at him, that she was confused from his lack of an answer. But he didn’t want to talk. If he did, he was sure he would burst out sobbing. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want Dis to see him like that. So he restrained himself from speaking.

“Nadad please- “

“Thorin!”

Dis was cut off. Bilbo abruptly let’s go of her fingers to run full force towards Thorin. His soft voice shouts the dwarfs name, as his feet slap loudly against the stone floor. He runs up to Thorin, who just freezes in place as Bilbo wraps his small arms around Thorin’s waist. Hugging him so tightly while burying his face in the dwarf’s shirt. His little hands clenching into Thorin’s garments firmly. He looked so small compared to Thorin. His figure only just managed to reach Thorin’s waist, as Bilbo stood on his tiny tip-toes to gain a better hold on him.

Thorin didn’t know what to do. Bilbo was hanging off of him like he never wanted to leave. His face was hidden. All Thorin could see was Bilbo’s brown wild curls. He couldn’t help but freeze as Bilbo ran to him. It only made the memory from earlier flash back at him. The one he would never forget. The close proximity was too much for Thorin. As quickly as Bilbo had wrapped himself around him, Thorin lifted his arms up and away from Bilbo. He couldn’t bear to touch him. But Bilbo seemed not to notice Thorin’s uneasiness, and tightens his hold on the dwarf, burying his face more into Thorin’s shirt as he starts to mutter his name over and over.

“T-Thorin…Thorin.”

The soft voice was cracking through his name. Bilbo sniffles loudly as he continues to repeat himself, burying his face more towards Thorin as much as he can. Thorin clenches his jaw and looks away. The sight of Bilbo like this was too much. The way he was muttering his name was causing Thorin to lose control. The voice was so soft and lost, like Bilbo was crying. Calling out to him. Just like the memory on Raven Hill, Thorin couldn’t reach him. _Thorin, stay with me_. It was too much. He closed his eyes tight as the tears started to build up again. He could still hear Bilbo’s mutterings of his name, and raised his arms higher towards his chest. He couldn’t stand it. He wanted to leave. Run back to his chamber and never come out again. With Bilbo touching him, it only made everything more real. Made this real to Thorin. Made him realise that it wasn’t a dream, he wasn’t imagining things. Bilbo really was gone. The ache in his chest was heavy, weighing Thorin down. Taking all his control, and leaving him with barely anything.

“Nadad…”

It was like a whisper. So soft it was like a prayer that it startled Thorin from him thoughts. He swallowed thickly and opens his eyes to look at Dis. With his eyes open, the tears begin to fall quietly down his face. He looks helplessly towards his sister. The vulnerable look her brother gave her was lost. He needed her more than ever. Dis glances down to Bilbo. The hobbit was still clinging onto Thorin, muttering his name over and over. She bends down to Bilbo’s level, calling him over.

“Bilbo, come here.”

The sniffles begin to stop at the mention of his name. His tiny form drooping, as his hold on Thorin loosens. His small arms unwrap themselves from around Thorin's wide waist, to hang heavily at his sides. His wild bed of curls dropping as Bilbo looks down at the hard cold floor. The mutterings for Thorin gradually stop too, as Bilbo begins to realise that Thorin won’t answer him. He slowly steps away from the Dwarf, as he turns towards Dis not looking at Thorin once. His feet were now heavy as they bring him over to her. His cloak dangling around his skinny knees, as he looks hard at the ground. He stops in front of Dis, with down cast eyes as he fiddles with his sleeves again. Dis notices Thorin move towards the fireplace. He stops in front of the hearth to stand rigidly by the fire, with his arms stretched out, palms flat against the marble surface. Dis glances back to Bilbo. His eyes are all red and puffy, and his bottom lip is pushed up against the top as he continues to look down at the floor. She places a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Bilbo Dear…”

He slowly looks up to Dis. His wide eyes are wet and glossy, as he too looks at her helplessly. She wishes that she could comfort him like he wanted Thorin to. But she couldn’t. She needed to get through to Thorin. Make him see sense. Make him realise that distancing himself from Bilbo was hurting them both. After all Bilbo was only a child now. He didn’t understand.

“Why don’t you take a book to my room and wait in there, so I can talk to Thorin.”

“B-But I wanted t-to see T-Thorin too.”

He stutters and cracks through his sentence, hiccupping as his sniffles start up again. Dis rubs her hand comfortingly against Bilbo’s shoulder. She didn’t want Bilbo to start crying again. It wouldn’t be fair to leave him alone in her room distraught.

“I know you do. Maybe you can see Thorin later.”

She smiles reassuringly at Bilbo. With him in the other room, hopefully she’ll be able to get through to Thorin. She didn’t know what or how he’ll react once she gets Thorin to open up. She didn’t want Bilbo to see Thorin in a mess when he finally surrenders. It would scare him. Maybe even worry him. It was better if Bilbo didn’t see any of that. With him in her room, it would shield him from hearing Thorin confess to his behaviour. Children never liked seeing the people they love cry. She squeezes Bilbo’s shoulder, and stands up to get the book they had been reading earlier. It was still left on the sofa, where Dis had placed it when Thorin walked in. Bilbo had liked it so much, that Dis had been reading the same tale over and over for most of the evening. He liked looking at the illustrations the most. Pointing at certain things in the black and white images, and laughing or smiling at what he could see. She smiled slightly at the memory. As she was walking over to the sofa, she notices that Thorin still hadn’t moved. From what she could see, Thorin’s back was tensed with his head dropped between his out-stretched arms. She could also tell that he was breathing heavily. Something she guessed was to help calm himself down. She knew Thorin well. What she was able to see earlier, when he looked at her so vulnerable, was proof that he was going to lose it. He was going to yield to his pain, whether he wanted to or not. It was going to happen. She picks up the timeworn book and walks back to Bilbo. The Hobbit was still standing in the spot he was, with his head down. It appeared Bilbo didn’t want to look at Thorin. He wouldn’t even glance in his direction. It was strangely odd. All day Bilbo had been wanting Thorin. Every now and again he’d stop Dis in her reading to ask when Thorin was arriving. She guesses he’d been doing the same with Bofur and Ori too. Now, it was the complete opposite. From looking a Bilbo’s small form, it was easily readable how Thorin’s actions had hurt Bilbo.

Once she gets next to Bilbo, Dis bends down again and passes the tatty leather book to Bilbo’s small hands. He reaches out, his little fingers poking through the baggy sleeves, revealing his creamy palms. Bilbo takes hold of it, letting it hang in his hands as he looks down at the book. His smooth face is crumbled up roughly, like he is deep in thought or either confused. He looks up towards the door that leads to Dis’s bedroom, with a troubled look on his face. Dis had seen that look many times of her son’s faces when they were young. It was a look that meant they didn’t want to go, but didn’t want to stay either. For a child it was very confusing to decide certain things on your own. Right now Bilbo was a child. Whatever had happened to Bilbo down in Dale, he was most certainly was his young child-like self. He acted and expressed himself like a child would. The only thing was they didn’t know what age Bilbo had been transformed into. From looking at him Dis would say he was aged around four summers. But without the right knowledge, they wouldn’t know for sure.

“Go on. It will be fine. Thorin might see you after.”

Bilbo bites his bottom lip, and looks back to Dis. She nods towards the door, standing up as she watches Bilbo take on last glance at the room before making his way over. His feet silently making their way to the door. The book hanging by his side. Once the door was firmly shut, Dis turns to address Thorin’s tensed form by the fireplace. He hadn’t move all that time.

“Thorin…”

With his figure standing in front of the fire, his heavy form blocks most of the light out, creating thick shadows to cover the once lit room. He doesn’t move when she calls him. Doesn’t flinch. The only thing she can notice is his harsh breathing. She sighs and slowly walks over to him. As she comes nearer, she gently places a hand on Thorin’s left shoulder.

“Nadad.”

Thorin sighs heavily, and turns towards Dis, letting go of the fireplace to stand in front of her. His arms hang loosely at his sides, his eyes red and his jaw stiff. Dis knows what this means. It’s a sign that Thorin is trying to maintain control. That he doesn’t want to surrender. But he needs too. Keeping all this in wasn’t doing him any good. After so many hours, it was finally the time for him to break down. She reaches out to Thorin, placing her right hand on his cheek, affectionately rubbing his cheekbone. He moves his face into the touch, welcoming the gesture as he closes his eyes. Two warm tears fall down, landing on Dis’s palm.

“Ma Shubutmi…”

His voice cracks through the sentence, as heavy sobs threaten to escape. It was the only thing he could say. The only thing that was true. His throat tightens as the sobs become harder and harder to contain. Thorin keeps his eyes tightly shut as he repeats himself again.

“Ma Shubutmi…”

As he repeated himself he couldn’t help the heavy tears that fell. The tears kept falling as he placed his right hand on top of Dis’s. He clasped on tight to her hand. Clingy to it like it was the answer to everything.

“What don’t you understand, Thorin?”

Her voice was soft. It was enough to send Thorin sobbing but he didn’t. He knew he had to get all this out before he lost it. He took a deep, shuddering breath and opened his eyes to look at Dis.

“Everything. H-How- “

It becomes too much for Thorin. He feels his throat tighten up, as the building sobs cut him off mid-sentence. He shakes his head slightly to gain control, and starts again.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know what to do Dis. I don’t- “

His rambling is cut off, as Dis reaches out to him. She pulls Thorin down into a hug. His head falls to rest near her neck and shoulder, as he hunches over her, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. Dis places her right arm over Thorin’s left shoulder, rubbing comforting circles on his back. Her left hand comes up to rest in Thorin’s thick long hair at the back of his head. The sibling affection was too much for Thorin. It was rare that the two of them ever got this close to each other. He had forgotten how nice it felt. The heavy sobs escape from his throat harshly. They tore at his throat as they echoed around the room, making his whole body shake from their force. Thorin felt so relieved to finally let go. He had no control on his tears, as the coarse sobs endlessly grew. He tightens his hold on Dis, as the weeping and howling of his cries begin to become more severe.

“There’s only one thing you can do Thorin, and that’s to be there for Bilbo. This Distancing yourself from him won’t help.”

Her voice was gentle, as she answers his pleads. She squeezes Thorin to comfort him. She never liked seeing him like this. It was very rare when Thorin got this emotional. When he did, sometimes it would go on for hours. On the mention of Bilbo’s name, Thorin tightens his hold on Dis and he howls out. It only causes Thorin to picture Bilbo’s small form from earlier. Dis notices this, and holds Thorin tighter in her arms, and continues on.

“You care for him deeply Nadad. He asks for you and you only. He needs you more than ever Thorin.”

It was true. Thorin did care for Bilbo. There were times he told himself that he loved the Hobbit. Now he felt useless. He couldn’t even be there for Bilbo. Couldn’t even reach out to him like he needed him too. How was Thorin supposed to love Bilbo if he couldn’t comfort him or touch him when he needed him? Bilbo did it once before on Raven Hill, why couldn’t Thorin? From his puzzling thoughts, Thorin’s sobs and cries start to die down leaving silent tears in their paths. He sniffles loudly, lifting his head to look at Dis.

“How? I can’t stand to see him. I can’t even touch him. How can I- “

“Thorin, look at me. The fact that you feel this way, that you’re in pain gives you strength, Nadad. It is your greatest strength, in fighting this for Bilbo. He needs you, no one else.”

Her voice comes out gentle, but with a demanding tone. She knows this way, Thorin might see some sense. He needs to for both him and Bilbo’s sakes. She moves her hand that is still resting in Thorin’s hair, down to his cheek again as he stares at her.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of it Thorin, grief comes in five stages and it will only strengthen you. It doesn’t end here Nadad, Kasamhili.”

She moves her hand from Thorin’s cheek, to gently tilt his forehead towards her. He lets her. Thorin needed her affection and comfort. Since confessing and opening up to her, his mind felt so much clearer. But the aching pain was still present. Something Thorin knew only time would help fade. Dis reaches up to place a soft kiss to Thorin’s forehead, keeping his head angled as she rests her warm lips there.

“Kasamhili Thorin, for Bilbo.”

Thorin removes his arms away from Dis’s waist to stand up straight, making Dis lose her hold on his head. He looks directly at her as he considers what she had said. For Bilbo. If Thorin did try, did care for Bilbo he’d be repaying the Hobbit a favour. Just like Bilbo did on Raven Hill. Back then Bilbo was trying to save Thorin, telling him to hang on and not give in. If Bilbo could do it when Thorin was at his weakest, at his most vulnerable, then so could he. It may be difficult at first. Thorin hadn’t had the experience since looking after Fili and Kili when they were little. That was a long time ago now. But he knew, with the way Bilbo seemed to be behaving, it might not be a problem. After all he didn’t think he’d be able to trust anyone else with the job. Apart from Dis, but she wasn’t an option. He nods his head as a small smile appears of his tear-stained face.

Dis smiles warmly at her brother. She was so glad that finally he had been able to see sense in the situation. They would have to sort out the arrangements later, and discuss certain things about where Bilbo will be staying. But right now, it was important that Thorin went to see Bilbo first. After all the Hobbit was deeply upset, and most probably scared and confused. She rubs Thorin’s cheek again in a gentle affectionate way.

“I am so pleased. We will sort out the long term arrangements later, but now I think you should go and see Bilbo. I expect he is waiting to see you, Nadad.”

With this, she wipes away the remaining tears that have stained Thorin’s face, while nodding towards the direction of the room. Thorin glances over to the door. It’s firm dark presence felt imitating to Thorin. He knew what was on the other side of that door. Even though he had agreed to take responsibly for Bilbo, he was still anxious. He was concerned about how confronting Bilbo again after ignoring him, would go down. Would Bilbo still want him near? After what Thorin had done, that little fear of rejection was strong. Even though Bilbo was a child now, would he still reject him? Do children do that to people who upset them? He wasn’t certain of anything, and that’s what made him nervous. That and the anger of his own irresponsible and thoughtless behaviour towards Bilbo. If the Hobbit really was a child, mind and body, then Bilbo was going to be very sensitive towards certain things. One of them being rejected and ignored.

“Go on. It will be fine.”

Dis’s voice was gentle, reassuring Thorin on the matter. He nods his head stiffly and begins to slowly make his way over to the auburn wooden door. His feet felt heavy in his leather boots. Treading heavily across the stone floor, dragging Thorin along with them. Once he was there he stopped in front of the door. Scrutinizing the door handle. For some reason Thorin was at a lost whether or not to knock. He didn’t want to startle Bilbo with his heavy knocking. He didn’t even know what Bilbo was doing. If he was asleep or wake. If he went in without knocking, it may buy him some time to watch Bilbo before he addresses him. To see how Bilbo was acting, and if he was upset or scared. He decided that entering without a knock was a better option. He grabs the golden door handle and slowly turns it so it doesn’t squeak in protest, and gently pushes the door open. The door swings open a little bit, hardly open wide enough for Thorin’s form to be noticed. It lets Thorin silently stand just pass the threshold, unseen.

From standing there, Thorin observes Bilbo’s small form on the bed. He was sat up, cross legged in the centre of the huge queen sized bed. His cloak sat hanging on his small form, drowning him in the heavy, thick green material. From his position on the bed, the cloak loosely covered most of Bilbo’s legs, drooping over his knees to reveal his uncovered feet. His sleeves also limply dangled around his skinny, miniature wrists, showing only his pale fingers. The book Dis had given him was placed on top of his lap, untouched and unopened. It looked huge in Bilbo’s lap, something that made Thorin realise just how small and innocent Bilbo really was. He was a child, just like any normal child was. Thorin suddenly felt sick with the way he had behaved towards Bilbo. He would have never done that to Fili and Kili. It was selfish and inappropriate. He glances up at Bilbo’s face. His wide eyes were red and puffy, and his button nose looked tender from the sniffling Thorin had heard Bilbo do. His eye lashes were thick and wet, and his lips were sore and red. His form was hunched over, as he stared at the untouched book in his lap. Bilbo seemed upset. Very hurt and shaken. It only urged Thorin more to yell at himself for what he had done. He pushes the door slowly so it was fully open, allowing him to walk into the room. Without turning he quietly closes the door behind him. He watches as Bilbo lifts his face up and goes from shock too anxious. His blue eyes widen as he stares across at Thorin from the bed. Thorin takes a deep breath and takes a little step towards the bed.

“Bilbo…”

Thorin finds the rest of his sentence unfinished. He didn’t really know what to say. He more than ever just wanted to hold Bilbo. Comfort him like he should have done. He sees that Bilbo hasn’t moved, and instead glances back down at his book, biting his bottom lip again. Thorin sighs. This was all his own fault. If he had been more careful around Bilbo, maybe the Hobbit wouldn’t be so anxious around him. He begins to slowly make his way towards the bed, and sits on the very edge facing Bilbo’s silent form. He wasn’t too near Bilbo, but near enough that he could see him more clearly. Every detail on his face was clear and unblemished, apart from the sores from his crying. Thorin shifts on the bed and calls out to Bilbo once again.

“Bilbo.”

From calling his name this time, Bilbo looks up at Thorin. He slowly glances across at the Dwarf, to look at Thorin straight in the eyes. Thorin looks back. From seeing Bilbo’s face closer, tore him apart to see the evidence of the pain he had made Bilbo feel. All the crying, the hurt and rejection was clear to see in his eyes. Thorin couldn’t take it. He had to heal the pain he had inflicted on Bilbo. He had to hold and comfort him. He needed to tell Bilbo that it was all going to be fine. That he was here now. He wordlessly opens his arms wide, in an invitation for Bilbo to come over. He smiles warmly across to Bilbo, to reassure him that it was all right. Everything was going to be okay now. Without a second thought Bilbo scrambles across the bed sheets, climbing into Thorin’s lap. Clinging to his garments as he once again buries his face into Thorin’s shirt. In return Thorin tightly wraps his arms around Bilbo’s form, making him feel secure. Having Bilbo so near, was once again making tears fall down from Thorin’s eyes. But it didn’t stop him. Without thinking, Thorin rested his own head against Bilbo’s, burying his nose in the Hobbits wild curls as he starts to gently rock Bilbo in his lap. The Hobbit only clings to Thorin more and starts to heavily cry against Thorin’s chest. Once again calling out the Dwarf’s name.

“T-Thorin…Thorin…”

“Shh, I’m here Bilbo. I’m not going anywhere I promise.”

The tears start to build behind Thorin’s eyes as he begins to comfort Bilbo. He lets them silently fall. There was no reason to hide the tears now. There was no reason to block Bilbo out. Thorin wasn’t going to leave him alone. Not ever again. He starts rubbing calming circles on Bilbo’s small back, as the Hobbit’s sobs become more severe, wrecking his little form in Thorin’s lap. The sound of Bilbo’s cries was painful to listen to. It only made Thorin’s pain hurt more. The aching in his chest dug at his insides, as he tightens his hold on Bilbo.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry Bilbo.”

Thorin’s deep voice cracks, as his tears start to fall heavily down his face. He closes his eyes to try and gain some control. He had to stay strong for Bilbo. After all Bilbo was now the child, and Thorin was the adult. He moves his hand from Bilbo’s back to his curls, comfortingly rubbing the back of the Hobbit’s head with his thumb. Holding Bilbo against him, as he continues to rock him through his cries. He closes his eyes, as his continues to repeat his reassurances to Bilbo. Whispering them over and over like prayer. His voice began to even out, becoming softer and hushed from Bilbo’s intense crying. He could hardly hear himself saying the words over Bilbo’s sobbing, but he continued to hold him. He knew, in the end it will help calm Bilbo down. After all this, Thorin expected Bilbo to still be upset for a least a couple of days. From the way he was crying into Thorin, suggested it was going to be difficult for Bilbo. Thorin had never seen a child cry like this. Like Bilbo was. His cries were harsh as Bilbo kept hiccupping. The sobs becoming too much for the Hobbit to control, making his breathing rough and irregular. He was shaking in Thorin’s arms, something Fili or Kili never did when they were little. It worried Thorin. He didn’t know if that was normal. If the shaking was brought on from the crying or something else. His concern for Bilbo started to intensify, as Bilbo’s breathing became more irregular. He was going to make himself sick soon if he didn’t calm down.

“Bilbo. Bilbo breath for me. Take a deep breath, you need to take a deep breath Bilbo.”

Thorin didn’t know if Bilbo was even listening to him. The harsh breathing and crying continued, like Bilbo didn’t understand what he meant. It only urged his concern more. He shifted on the bed, to try and get Bilbo to look up at him. His face was still buried in Thorin’s shirt. Something he guessed wasn’t helping.

“Bilbo.”

He said his name a little too harshly, but he was beginning to worry that Bilbo would make himself ill. His shaking was the worse, but it wasn’t what Thorin was concerned about at the moment. He needed Bilbo to breath to help him relax a bit. He shifted again, moving Bilbo back a fraction on his lap to try and see his face. It was defiantly the wrong thing to do, as Bilbo abruptly cried out clinging to Thorin more firmly than before.

“NO!”

Bilbo started to squirm in Thorin’s hold, like he thought he would leave him, clinging to every piece of clothing he could find. His crying died down to small whines, as he repeated himself, pleading Thorin not to leave him.

“Bilbo its fine, I’m not going anywhere. I promised.”

Thorin began to reassure Bilbo, tightening his hold on the Hobbit while trying to get his attention. From his squirming, Bilbo’s face wasn’t buried against his shirt anymore, giving Thorin the chance to look at Bilbo’s face. He needed Bilbo to look at him, it was the only way to finally calm him down. Thorin gently lifted Bilbo’s chin with his thumb, making the Hobbit stop his squirming to glance up at Thorin. His breathing was still irregular, but his cries had finally reduced. Something Thorin was grateful for.

“Bilbo, I’m not going anywhere.”

He said it with more force, as he gently caresses Bilbo’s chin. The hobbit took a deep shuddering breath, helping him breath more regularly, as he looked at Thorin straight in the eyes. His wide eyes were still red and wet. The tears entrancing their blue colour, as they stared back at Thorin. Bilbo was frowning up at him. His round smooth face was covered in fear, as all the was left from Bilbo’s display was his intense shaking. “T-Thorin I’m s-scared.”

He clung to Thorin again, as small tears ran down his round face. It was heart-breaking to witness Bilbo like this. His body began shaking as the tears started to fall more heavily. Thorin rushed to comfort Bilbo. He didn’t want him to work himself up in a state again. He only just managed to calm him down.

“There’s nothing to be afraid off Bilbo. Nothing can harm you. I’m here, you’re safe now.”

He tried his best to sound reassuring. The pain of seeing Bilbo like this only served to make his earlier tears fall again. His lifts his hand to brush back some of Bilbo’s curls away from his face, and smiles slightly at him. He wanted Bilbo to know that what he said was true. That he was going to keep him safe. He was never going to let him go. He finds himself repeating his actions, brushing his fingers through Bilbo’s brown wild curls. It helps the Hobbit to calm down, as his shaking slowly and gradually begins to cease. All that was left were small tremors, as he looks helplessly at Thorin.

“You’re safe. It’s all gone.”

He finds his voice cracking at the last word, as his tears start to fall heavily. The tears are silent, while they fall, as Thorin had done most of his grieving with Dis. Now there was only the pain and sorrow left. Thorin brushes some of the lose curls back against Bilbo’s forehead, as his tears continue to fall.

“Y-You pomise?” Bilbo’s small voice stuttered through his sentence, mispronouncing his last word. He continued to look at Thorin, his wide eyes staring at him softly as he waited. Waiting for Thorin’s reassurances. Thorin smiled warmly at Bilbo, as best he could with tears falling down his cheeks.

“I promise.”

Thorin watched as Bilbo’s little face light up a fraction, his blue eyes shining slightly in the moonlight that had begun to crawl through the windows. He looked paler in the moonlight. His pale skin, shining in a way a crystal would or a pearl. Bilbo never looked that pale before. From his travelling with the Company his skin had toughen up and became tanned from the constant sunlight. From looking a Bilbo’s young form now, it was hard to image that Bilbo could be this pale once. He smiled more warmly at Bilbo this time. Before Thorin could comfort Bilbo again, The Hobbit threw himself at Thorin, wrapping his little arms around his neck tightly. He buried his face into Thorin’s neck, clinging to him once again. As Bilbo clung to his neck, Thorin could feel warm tears fall onto to his skin where Bilbo’s face was buried. The Hobbit was crying again, but this time his cries were gentle. There was no shaking, no harsh sobbing, no hiccupping. Just silent tears and gentle sniffling. Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo, hugging him in a secure hold, as he once again started to rock Bilbo. He buries his face near Bilbo’s curls, as he feels warm tears landing onto his skin more heavily.

“Shh, It’s alright Bilbo.”

He hears his own voice start to crack, and knows he’s close to crying again. He tightens his hold on Bilbo, rubbing small circles on his back, as he continues the rocking. At Thorin’s reassurances, Bilbo starts to sniffle loudly as his tears become more severe. Thorin closes his eyes, as his own tears start falling down his cheeks. He never asked for this. He promised himself that day on his sick bed that he’ll shield Bilbo from any more pain. No more grieve. But he couldn’t even do that for Bilbo. He couldn’t even protect him in his own kingdom. He wished more than anything that he was with Bilbo in Dale this morning. But no matter how hard his wished, he knew the only way to save Bilbo was to find out what had happened down there. Only then would this all fade, and Bilbo will be safe again. His own tears started to silently fall heavily down his cheeks, as he buries his face into Bilbo’s curls, his own voice sounding croaky to his own ears.

“It will all go way.”


End file.
